<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Eight Executions and a Feast by EdwardHyde10</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28883694">Eight Executions and a Feast</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdwardHyde10/pseuds/EdwardHyde10'>EdwardHyde10</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sidneyverse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:13:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28883694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdwardHyde10/pseuds/EdwardHyde10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Eight Executions and a Feast</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eight Executions and a Feast<br/>By<br/>Edward Hyde</p><p> </p><p>“You’re looking forward to this, huh?” Annie teased, looking down at Joe’s ten year old boyhood which stood at full attention. “Or are you just pleased to see me?” </p><p>“Maybe a bit of both...” Joe grinned awkwardly, trying neither to blush nor to stare at his naked classmate. “Wonder when the others will get here?” </p><p>“Getting cold?” Annie asked. “Won’t have to worry about that for long!” </p><p>“Nah!” Joe laughed, “Although I’m glad we’re not doing this at Halloween! Me and my sister went to check out this street where they go all-out with the entertainments and I’m surprised more people didn’t freeze to death!” </p><p>“True!” Annie laughed as she finished packing her clothes into the carrier bag labelled with her name and sat down on the bench to wait for the others. It was a warm afternoon on the last day of the Summer term, just before the six weeks holiday, and Year Six were putting on a special presentation for the rest of the school. </p><p>The two friends from 6G were the first to arrive and had got on with the business of undressing as soon as they got into the changing room. Joe had perhaps been a little more hesitant at first – stripping naked in front of a classmate, and a pretty girl at that! But once he saw how matter-of-factly she was taking off her clothes and remembered that, very soon, the whole school and several of the parents, not to mention everyone who looked at the photos and video later, would be seeing him in the nude, he had quickly stripped off too. </p><p>Normally these presentations took place during Morning Assembly but, given the much larger scale planned for this year, it had been decided to dedicate the afternoon to it. It had also been moved from the end of the Spring term to the end of the Summer term so as to make it more comfortable outside for the participants, white Easters being far more common than white Christmases in Britain. </p><p>This year, instead of the more common theme of human sacrifice in ancient cultures, something that many of the teachers, especially those who had been there for a long time, were starting to consider “done to death” and lacking in opportunity to be creative, since all the props, sets and even scripts were available and well-established, this year’s theme would be execution methods through history, excluding those such as the electric chair that would be too difficult to re-create on a school field. Famous executions such as those of Marie Antoinette and Lady Jane Gray had been, of course, occasional themes in the past but these presentations were to focus on the methods rather than the individuals.</p><p>There were four classes in Year Six and eight participants from each class would be performing. The performers were using the school swimming pool changing rooms to get ready but instead of being split male and female, they were divided by those who would be carrying out the executions and those who would be executed.  Knowing how popular the meal that followed these presentations always was, it had been agreed that the girls would only be killed in ways which allowed for their meat to be cooked afterwards whereas the boys, who nobody was interested in eating, would be used to demonstrate the more destructive methods. </p><p>Since the presentation was on a much larger scale than usual, the pupils were advised only to have a light lunch and the food would be served at the end of the school day with all parents invited to partake as well. To keep things from getting two crowded, since all four Year Six classes were participating this year rather than just one as would usually be the case, it had been agreed that only the parents of the six pupils from each class taking an active role would be invited to watch the show, with all of course being welcome to enjoy the meat later!</p><p>Annie couldn’t help being pleased with the method she had drawn when she and the other four volunteer girls had decided their fate by picking slips of paper from a bowl while the boys did likewise in a different room. It would mean that, although she was technically the first to be executed, her death would be prolonged so that she would be able to watch and enjoy the rest of the executions before she succumbed. It also meant that her “big moment” in front of the whole school would be over and done with quickly so she wouldn’t be waiting too long and having to contend with stage fright. </p><p>“How long do you reckon it takes?” Joe sat down beside her, trying to take his mind off his own arousal.</p><p>“For you?” Annie pondered a moment or two. “Probably pretty instant I guess? Will hurt like hell for a few seconds ‘though.” She glanced down and saw that his attempts at distracting himself were having no success as his member still stood hard and proud. Unable to resist, she tried pushing it down with the tip of her finger, giggling as it sprung back up and bounced for a few seconds like a ruler twanged on the side of a table. She was almost surprised it didn’t make a similar sound! “You know, that’s only going to get worse when the other girls start stripping off!” she laughed. “Why don’t you just take care of it? I won’t look if you’re embarrassed!”</p><p>The slim, slightly feminine-looking boy blushed even deeper, pushing his blonde fringe out of his face.</p><p>“I… um… don’t know how.” he admitted. Annie looked at him for a few seconds, wondering whether to tease him or be sympathetic, but eventually her compassion won out. </p><p>“I can try something, if you like?” she suggested. “I’ve never actually done it before but I walked in on my mum doing it to my dad once and he seemed really happy and relaxed afterwards and…” now it was the pretty, olive-skinned brunette’s turn to blush, “...and I spied on her doing it a couple of times, through the door, so I’ve got a pretty good idea how it’s supposed to be done. Want me to try?”</p><p>“If you don’t mind...” Joe smiled shyly. “It’s kinda awkward sitting here like this!” </p><p>“I won’t be able to help you if you get another one later,” his friend grinned cheekily, “but this might help relax you a bit. Not here, ‘though, in case the others arrive while I’m doing it and all the boys want one. I don’t even know if I’m going to like it yet and I don’t want to feel obliged to do it four times!” </p><p>“Where then?” Joe frowned a little, “The others are changing in the other room and it’s not like we can go outside… In the pool room?” </p><p>“There’s no door.” Annie reminded him. “I know! How about Miss Winston’s office? There’s nobody in there right now and we can lock it from the inside until we’re done!” Joe enthusiastically agreed and followed his friend into the small, cluttered office where the swimming teacher who came in only for her scheduled lessons three afternoons a week did her paperwork. “Sit on the chair.” Annie instructed before kneeling on the floor which, like the changing room, was covered with cold tiles. </p><p>Hoping she had understood what she’d seen well enough to do a good job, Annie pushed her long, almost-black hair away from her face and leant forward, taking Joe’s erection in her mouth and closing her lips around it. She rocked back and forth as she had seen her mum do, sucking it like an ice-lolly while Joe gripped the arms of the shabby blue swivel-chair. Finding her rhythm, the ten year old began to use her tongue a little too and soon Joe was gasping and moaning. A slight twitch from the hard willy between her lips and suddenly her mouth was filled with something hot and slightly salty. Wide-eyed, she wondered for a moment if her friend had peed in her mouth but this was different, thicker. Without really knowing what else to so, she swallowed it down then used her tongue to clean the last drops of the tip of her friend’s boyhood which already seemed to be wilting and returning to its resting state. Clearly her “special kiss” as her mum had called it when asked, that time she’d walked in on them, had done the trick and she hoped that Joe would now be able to relax a bit better. </p><p>“There you go!” she stood up, wiping her lips with the back of her hand and deciding that the taste, although not something she was overly-eager to experience more of, was not the worst thing ever and feeling happy to have helped her friend out. “All better?” </p><p>“Yes...” Joe blushed some more, now embarrassed by how small his willy looked compared to a couple of minutes earlier. Why couldn’t it stay somewhere in between? At least it wasn’t a cold day outside so it wouldn’t shrink away like it did when he went swimming in sea on holiday in Scotland last year! “Wonder if the others are here yet?” </p><p>Making their way as nonchalantly as possible back into the changing room, the friends found Toby and Michelle from class 6J starting to get undressed. Toby was a tall, stocky red-head with a face covered in freckles and Michelle was a beautiful mixed-race girl with skin the colour of milky coffee and thick, dark curly hair. They all greeted each other and just as they were starting to remark how noisy the “executioners” were being, they were joined by the volunteers from 6B, willowy blonde eleven year old Claire and chubby, brown-haired Steven. While Claire lacked some of the meatiness of Annie and Michelle, she was undoubtedly very beautiful and lots of the pupils, as well as several of the teachers, were looking forward to seeing her in the nude. She would make a nice stew at least, once her entertaining death was out of the way! </p><p>Last to arrive were the twins Bobby and Helen from 6P, panting a little and looking embarrassed when they say the other six sat naked and waiting. Steven didn’t seem to be having Joe’s problem but Toby was sitting with his legs crossed and his hands clamped in his lap, leaving little doubt as to what he was trying to hide. Annie couldn’t help giggling a little to herself but was rather glad she’d been discrete about her help to Joe. Toby was notorious in the school for his poor hygiene and, although he didn’t seem to be smelling too bad so probably had showered that morning, she really didn’t relish the idea of putting his willy in her mouth! </p><p>“Sorry!” Bobby was the first to catch his breath. “We went to the sports hall instead and were waiting there and wondering where everyone else was then Mr Osborne found us and said we were supposed to be here but that we couldn’t go running around naked so we had to get dressed again then we ran here and...” he stopped for breath again, having not taken a single pause in his lengthy exposition. </p><p>“Well you’re here now!” Miss Jennings, the teacher of 6J laughed as she came in to check on the performers. “Just hurry up and pop your clothes in the bags. I’ll make sure your parents get them afterwards.” She looked around the room at the six naked children who were all waiting patiently but obviously excited for the big performance. “Everyone else ready?”</p><p>“Yes, Miss Jennings!” they chorused as if they were in assembly, making the young teacher chuckle a little. </p><p>“Good! I’ll be back to collect you in about five minutes.” she smiled. “I’ll go check on the other team, see if their costumes fit as well as yours!” The six naked children giggled at this, the other two being too preoccupied with having to undress for the second time that afternoon and feeling embarrassed about their mistake which had caused them to be so behind schedule. Six volunteer mums were in the other changing room, helping the executioners into their costumes, but it had been decided that the Annie and her team were more than capable of getting undressed on their own. </p><p>The stripping was probably more awkward for the latecomers than for any of those before since they had to undress in front of six others who had nothing but them to occupy their attention. At least when the others had been undressing it had mostly been among others who were undressing too but now six pairs of eyes were on Bobby and Helen as they tried to rush the removal of their school uniforms, slowing themselves down in the process. </p><p>The twin siblings happened to be the oldest of the eight, both with September birthdays so closer to turning twelve than eleven. Helen was the only one among them to wear a proper rather than training bra which she was now fumbling to remove, revealing her perky, plump little tits roughly the size and shape of satsumas. Although the most physically mature, she was not the tallest among the team but was very pretty with dirty-blonde hair and some lovely curves which would look amazing on the spit that afternoon. Being the oldest but a good three months, Bobby was also the most develop of the boys and Joe could not help feeling jealous when he saw his friend’s willy that was far closer to looking like a man’s than his would ever be. Unlike the girls who had to be ready to eat, the boys retained any pubic hair they might have and, in this area too, Bobby had the rest of them beat.</p><p>Quickly enough, the twins had packed their clothes away, hung their bags on the pegs and were sat down with the others, waiting for Miss Jennings to come and collect them. The teacher could be heard in the adjoining room giving a pep-talk to the executioners, all dressed in period-appropriate costumes, then there was the sound of excited chatter and many feet stomping past as they were led out onto the field. In the distance, the naked, excited eight could hear cheers from the rest of the school and the invited parents as the arrival of the costumed groups meant the show was about to begin. </p><p>There had been rehearsals, of course, mostly with individual groups in their classrooms but last night, after school, a walk-through on the field. Of course it was hard to rehearse properly without actually carrying out the executions and everyone had to trust that the various methods would work as planned. The point had more been for everyone to know their area, where to stand and where the equipment would be set up. In the rehearsal, too, nobody had actually been naked, those to be executed having stripped down only to their underwear. Although they had not discussed it, Annie was pretty sure that all the girls, at least, were as excited as she was at the idea of being exposed to the hungry eyes of the pupils and parents and, judging by the problem Joe had been having earlier, and from the looks of it was starting to have again, the boys were no less excited. </p><p>Less than two minutes later, Miss Jennings was back. She had a bag with eight little plastic containers, like energy shots, which she gave out to the naked children. </p><p>“Peel the foil off the top and drink them.” They’re pain-killers but they won’t make you drowsy or anything like that, you’ll be fully alert and I’m afraid you will still experience some pain but these should make it easier to deal with.” The children obediently opened the small bottles and gulped down the liquid which tasted somewhat of lemon, or of something trying to taste like lemon, at least, but far more of medicine. “Don’t worry,” the young teacher smiled as she collected up the empty containers and dropped them back into the cheap plastic bag, ready to be binned, “it’s not enough liquid to make you embarrass yourselves, just easier than swallowing pills.” </p><p>The only bit of preparation required now over, Miss Jennings lead them out of the changing room and onto the field to meet their public and their fate. The cheers for these new arrivals were far louder than those for their costumed classmates, practically a roar as the eight spread themselves out to their assigned stations and the audience, who would follow the action from spot to spot, were invited to gather in front of the twin trees towards the far end of the field where Annie and her executioners waited. </p><p>After some brief words of welcome and introduction from the head, reminding people of practicalities and housekeeping, praising the hard work of the pupils and teachers behind today’s performance and gushing about the importance of tradition, it was time for the show to begin. </p><p>Each group of executioners included one who would read from a card giving exposition as the execution took place. As a hush fell across the audience, Annie’s three executioners took their places. Andy and Jane were dressed as Roman soldiers while Mary wore a toga and a laurel wreath. It was Mary who broke the excited silence, reading from her card as Annie stood naked between the two soldiers, her arms gripped tightly as if she were their real prisoner. </p><p>“Although nowadays most commonly associated with the origins of Christianity,” Mary began in the measured, deliberate voice all children and plenty of adults use when reading from a script, “crucifixion was a common method of execution in the ancient world, especially favoured by the Roman Empire. As a slow, humiliating and painful death it was most commonly used as a show of power in occupied territories and for those who committed crimes against the Empire such as sedition or insurrection.”</p><p>Everyone stood quietly, watching and listening intently, many parents with phones and cameras out to capture the action despite assurances that, as always, official photographs and videos would be taken. </p><p>“Crucifixions could be carried out almost anywhere.” Mary continued. “Sometimes the condemned would be nailed to a purpose-built cross as depicted in Christian iconography, but more commonly the executioners would use a tree, especially if one the right shape was available, as is the case here.” The dark-haired, serious-faced girl paused here to gesture to the tree from which Annie would be hung – twin trunks grew as one up to about two feet from ground level then split off forming a V. </p><p>“The condemned would always be naked,” she explained, “to add shame to the sentence. It was also common for the body to be left to rot in situ or be thrown to the wild dogs with burial being permitted very rarely. In fact,” she attempted to put some emphasis in her voice here, “despite the many thousands of crucifixions carried out by the Romans, only one set of remains bearing evidence of this form of execution has ever been found.” This fact, at least, raised interested muttering from the audience although everyone was really hoping that Mary would be finished soon so that they would watch Annie’s crucifixion rather than just hearing about it. </p><p>“Death would come from affixation when the condemned could no longer hold themselves up,” Mary explained, “and their lungs would fill with fluid. Depending on how long they wanted to condemned to last, the executioners could add a small seat to prolong the process, or break the condemned’s legs to hasten in. In rare cases, a spear between the ribs would be used to pierce the heart and bring about a quick death once the condemned was deemed to have suffered for long enough, or if the cross or tree was needed for further executions.” Annie took a deep breath at these words, knowing that was how she was likely to be finished off, assuming she had not already succumbed by the time all the other executions were finished. </p><p>“Guards!” Mary turned to the two soldiers, making a valiant attempt at an authoritative voice such as an Emperor or at least a Governor or Centurion might use, “Ready the prisoner for execution!” This was it, Annie knew, the beginning of the end for her. While Jane maintained her grip on Annie’s arm, Andy placed a small wooden step-stool at the foot of the tree then returned and helped to march Annie, backwards, towards the tree that she would spend the rest of her life nailed to. Carefully, she mounted the steps and stood with her back against the rough bark.</p><p>This was her first chance to get a good look at the audience, especially the adults at the back. As she scanned the row of indulgently-smiling faces, looking for her parents who had both promised to be there, the condemned young girl got a nice surprise!</p><p>Right in the middle and beaming proudly was Mr Jenkins who had been the Head teacher during her first year at the school, before he retired, and who sometimes came in to give assemblies which were always very popular. Although he was older than her grandad and his hair and beard were pale grey, he was still very handsome! What was it her mum called him? A silver fox! Annie’s mum had not gone to that school, having grown up in a different part of the country, but her dad had and had even been in Mr Jenkins class at one point. She knew that it was Mr Jenkins’ class who had started the tradition she was now participating in, long before her parents were even born! She was so happy and proud that he was there to witness this very special moment. </p><p>Just to his right, smiling at her and offering thumbs-up were her parents, her dad’s arm around her mum’s shoulders. She wanted to wave at them or offer some other sign of greeting but realised it was important to stay in character so satisfied herself with slightly prolonged eye-contact to assure them she knew they were there. </p><p>“Prisoner!” Mary addressed Annie directly now. “You stand before these people, guilty of crimes against the Roman Empire and are therefore under sentence of death. Guards, carry out the sentence!” Annie took a deep breath as Mary turned back towards the audience and resumed her narration. </p><p>“Contrary to what is often depicted in art,” she continued as Jane grabbed Annie’s left arm and held it up against the tree, “the crucifixion nail does not pass through the palm, which would be too easily torn, but is instead driven through the wrist, just below the heel of the hand.” Andy now pressed the tip of a long, black iron nail to Annie’s wrist and raised his mallet. The pretty ten year old could not help letting out a small scream as the first blow hit and the spike was driven into her. The painkilling drink she had been given might have been taking the edge off but the pain was still intense. The audience watched silently, transfixed, as as the second flow landed and Annie felt the tip erupt through the back of her wrist. The third, fourth and fifth blows drove it into the wood behind, the vibrations hurting almost as much as the piercing itself, until the sixth and final blow caused the edges of the broad head to cut into her soft olive skin. </p><p>Knowing that the respite would only last as long as it took her two friends playing the guards to walk around to her other side, Annie took some deep breaths and sought to swallow the sobs that were building inside her from the pain. </p><p>“You will notice,” Mary’s narration continued, “that the nail passing through the wrist forces the thumb to fold inwards against the palm.” Curious and trying to distract herself from the pain she already felt and the pain she knew she was about to feel, Annie looked at her own left hand through tear-filled eyes and saw that Mary’s description was correct. Her thumb had involuntarily pressed itself against her palm and, although she could wiggle her fingers quite freely, her thumb remained immobile. </p><p>Her attention was suddenly jerked away as Jane took hold of her right arm and held it in position. Andy had obviously got the hand of his task now and approached it with confidence. This time it took only one blow to drive the nail all the way through her wrist and the tip into the wood behind, and only three more to complete the job. This time, however, Annie gritted her teeth and did not cry out. Already the chemicals in her brain were beginning to compensate for the attack on her body and she felt a little giddy, trying to listen to what her toga-clad classmate was saying now but finding it hard to focus. </p><p>A new surge of pain came as the steps were yanked from under her feet, leaving her suspended by the thick iron spikes through her delicate wrists. This time Annie could not help but cry out, as much from the shock as from the pain, but she barely had time to adjust to her new position before Jane was holding her feet one on top of the other and Andy was driving in a third nail. </p><p>The audience cheered and applauded as the two guards stepped away, leaving Annie pinned like a butterfly, unable to hide her nakedness from the hungry eyes even if she had wanted to, her soft, prepubescent body fully exposed. </p><p>Already the dizziness was starting to fade and Annie was not sure whether the pain was actually diminishing or if whether she was just getting used to it. It was difficult to breathe in that position for sure, to take in a breath while hanging from her arm. Steeling herself for the pain and discomfort she knew was to come, the crucified young girl raised herself up, pushing against the nail through her feet as if it were a step, and was able to take in a big gulp of air before dropping down again, relieving the pain in her feet but putting her weight back on the nails through her wrists. She tried to hold off taking her next breath, to make one last as long as possible, but soon the burning in her lungs was rivalled only by the burning in her arm muscles and she forced herself up once more, the pain shooting up her legs as she did so.</p><p>Even with the pain she was feeling, the far stronger sensation was the tingling between her legs, knowing that she was pinned, naked and exposed, to the tree where she would die and that a short time afterwards, all the people who had watched her execution would, including her friends and family, would enjoy her roasted meat! It was such a feeling and so intense was her arousal that by far the greatest torture was not the pain in her wrists and feet, not the burning in her lungs, but the fact that she was unable to scratch that very particular, very insistent itch. </p><p>Looking out over the audience, Annie wished that one of them would step forward and help her like she had helped Joe but already they were starting to turn away. Her parents were the last to move off but they too departed with cheerful waves and blown kisses. Even her three classmates left to watch the next part of the performance, leaving her utterly alone. </p><p>A few more tortured breaths and Annie was able to find a sort of rhythm, a routine that made the breathing tolerable. Once settled into that routine, her head began to clear a little and she was able to look around for the audience, to see where they had gone. From her position, nailed up on the tree, Annie was pleased to find that she had a very good view of all the other setups as she had hoped she would and hoped now only to last long enough to watch all her condemned friends dispatched. </p><p>Rubbing her thighs together in a desperate attempt to stimulate herself and relieve the powerful yearning between her legs, Annie tried to focus on the next part of the show, her breathing routine relegated, as much as possible, to the back of her mind, something she just got on with without too much thought. Hopefully, she thought, the next execution would provide a welcome distraction. </p><p>Next to meet their fate was Toby, the tall red-haired boy with a reputation for questionably hygiene. Right now how was stood between two armoured guards, his hands tied together in front of him, while his classmate dressed as a Priest in a long black robe read to the audience about the crime of Heresy. Behind the little execution party was a tall bonfire, out of the middle of which rose a thick stake.</p><p>A ladder was resting against the construction and it was this that one of the guards now made a show of forcing Toby up. Annie couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for the poor guard who had to follow him with his nose so close to his bottom! That the top of the ladder, Toby was pushed against the stake and tied very securely with his hands behind and ropes around his middle, ankles and neck. There was quite a lot of giggling, especially from the other children, as he was no longer able to hide his rather stubby little willy which stood proudly away from his belly. </p><p>The one guard now descended the stairs and disappeared behind the fire stack while the second climbed the ladder and took something out of the pouch on her belt. Annie strained to see what they were but it was difficult at this distance. One was a rag which was shoved in his mouth, presumably to muffle any screaming. That was simple enough but what was the other thing? The little pouch or bag which was hung around Toby’s neck, resting in the middle of his chest. Straining to catch the commentary, Annie was able to make out the explanation.</p><p>“If the executioners were feeling merciful,” the priest was explaining, “a small bag of black powder, or gunpowder as we now know it, would be placed around the condemned’s neck. This would explode when the flames reached it, killing the condemned instantly and shortening their suffering. In some cases, the condemned was actually strangled to death before the fire was lit, the destruction of their body being as much a part of the punishment as death itself.”</p><p>Now the second guard had carefully made his way back down to the bottom of the ladder and taken it away, leaning it against another tree a safe distance from the bonfire. Annie watched with interest as the first guard emerged once more, carrying two flaming torches. He handed one to his companion and they stood either side of the pyre. Although there was some fear on his face, Annie thought that Toby’s willy might actually be about to squirt like Joe’s had in her mouth, the way it was twitching, as the priest turned to give the final command. Was he enjoying the feeling of being exposed and vulnerable as much as she was?</p><p>“Guards!” He bellowed, “Cleanse this Heretic’s filfthy soul with God’s Holy fire!” Some splots of something thick and white did shoot for the tip of Toby’s short but thick willy as the guards put their torches into the stack of dry wood and kindling and lit the fire before retreating to a safe distance. Annie could hear the giggles from the audience and felt a little sorry for Toby. This was meant to be his big, dramatic death scene and he was being teased and heckled!</p><p>“You’re gonna need a bit more than that to put the fire out!” one boy called, to the great delight of the rest of the audience. </p><p>“Don’t think your little fireman’s up to the job!” yelled another. Annie was very pleased to see two teachers push their way into the audience and escort the two hecklers away, along with three others who had been laughing loudly and derisively. Annie hoped the sound of the crackling flames was loud enough to have blocked most of this for Toby and that he would be too distracted to pay much attention. Sure, he stank a lot of the time but she’d never known him be mean or rude and he certainly didn’t deserve to be mocked while he died. </p><p>Hopefully the bully boys would now have to sit in a classroom on their own, missing not only the show but the food afterwards! Annie really hoped so – she didn’t want anyone so mean enjoying her meat! </p><p>The flames were licking higher now, around Toby’s legs almost up to his knees. There could be no doubt that he was trying to scream but the wadded up rag in his mouth was muffling the sound. He was pulling against his bonds now, involuntairly. However willing a volunteer he’d been, his body simply wouldn’t allow him to just stand there and accept being burned alive. All the while, the flames were climbing, higher and higher. Annie hoisted herself up against the nail through her feet, both to breathe and to get the best view as the flames danced around Toby’s waist and belly. Surely it could only be a matter of seconds before…</p><p>Suddenly there was a bright flash, followed a fraction of a second by an earsplitting bang which made even the tree to which Annie was nailed vibrate! When her eyes refocussed, Toby’s head was slumped and the flames were engulphing his entire body. The crowd began to move away. Annie noticed Mr Harper, the caretaker, staying behind to keep an eye on the fire. She wondered it would be left to burn down naturally, providing a focal point for the feasting later, or whether he would wait for Toby’s body to be obliterated then put it out. </p><p>Despite her continued discomfort, Annie was pleased to notice that the bonfire was the furthest display from her own which meant the audience and the performances would be getting progressively closer and it would be easier for her to hear the explanations. Not, of course, that the next exhibit required a lot of explanation. Annie had seen it several times before, both in use in a previous Year Six assembly and just as a visiual aid in history classes. It was a tall, wooden structure with a bench sticking out behind it and a fiendishly sharp blade set to fall as soon as the rope holding it up was released. There was no “leader” among the executions this time, all three were wearing the red caps and peasant attire of French Revolutionaries. As usual, one held a card from which to read while the other two guarded the prisoner. In this care that prisoner was Helen, biting her lip and looking every bit as excited to die under the falling blade as the audience were to watch. </p><p>“Despite its firm links in the public imagination with the French revolution,” the tall girl with her light-brown hair in a ponytail, named Laura, read from her card, “this execution device, commonly known as the guillotine and considered a humane alternative to beheading by axe since it requires no skill on the part of the executioner and is guarenteed to remove the head in a single, clean blow, has equivalents in many parts of the world, not least the Halifax Gibbet and the Maiden which is still on display in the Edinburgh museum.”</p><p>There was no doubt that this was the quickest and most painless form of execution that would be showcased that day, and also the one which leant itself to the head being preserved to join its bronzed companions in the trophy cabinet which, since the new wing of the school had been built, stretched down an entire corridor. Annie knew that hers would be removed once her corpse was taken down from the tree, and that efforts would be made to preserve those of the other girls, but there was still debate what to do about the boys since this was the first time they had been invited to participate in the annual performance. Certainly Toby’s would be beyond saving, even if his charred skull could be found among the remains of the fire, and Joe’s was unlikely to be in any fit state either. As for the other two, Annie supposed they’d be kept if they could be, and disposed of if not. As long as at least one head from the eight of them found its way into the cabinet then the tradition would be preserved. </p><p>It was probably for the best, Annie reflected, that Helen was being beheaded in this way as her body was, she did not mind admitting, the most delicious-looking of all of them that most people were looking forward to tasting. The clean removal of her head meant that it would be an easy matter to gut and clean her carcass before mounting it on a spit to roast. </p><p>“The guillotine’s popularity did not end with the French Revolution,” Laura continued, “as it continued to be favoured method of execution well into the twentieth century, being employed by Nazi Germany and remaining the official French method of execution until the nineteen seventies. In fact,” Laura paused her for emphasis, clearly relishing the shocking fact she was about to share, “the last official execution by guillotine in France took place in nineteen severnty seven, the same year that the first Star Wars movie was released.” There were appropriatly interesting mutters and exclamations at the revelation. </p><p>“Now brothers and sisters!” Laura turned to address her two fellow executioners. “Bind this enemy of the people and deliver her into eternal punishment!” </p><p>Helen looked out over the crowd of eager onlooker, all waiting impatiently for her death. A special thrill had passed through her young body them moment she unfolded the piece of paper and saw the method of execution she would be demonstating. For almost as long as she could remember, she had fantacised about her head being cut off. She wasn’t even sure where it had started – perhaps a scene in a cartoon or something like that? But a trip to the Tower of London when she was eight, where she was able to see a real beheading axe and chopping block, and then the film she had watched two years later about the French Revolution had cemented the desire in her. </p><p>Glancing up at the polished steel blade, glinting wickedly in the sunlight, the doomed eleven year old knew she should be afraid but she was not, not even a little! All she felt was anticipation for that euphoric moment when the blade would slice through her neck and her head would be cut free from her body. How long would she live in the wicker basket below, she wondered? A few seconds? Some people insisted it could be as long as a minute! </p><p>Breathing heavily, she allowed her hands to be securely tied behind her back and led around to the bench. Her two friends escorting her were being a little rough, more than was really necessary given that she had no intention of offering any resistance. But she didn’t mind too much, it was all part of the experience! And if it made a better show for the audience then, as far as Helen was concerned, it was a win for everyone! She lay face down on the polished wood bench, feeling her small but firm breasts crushed under her own weight. The sensation sent another tingle through her preteen body as her nipples pressed into the slightly chilly, smooth surface. The Revolutionaries bound her feet together as tightly as her wrists then slid her forward a little so that her head rested in the lower half of the hole.</p><p>As the top half was slid into position and locked in place, Helen thought about the many other girls who had lost their heads in this very same device. Not to mention the thousands, millions even, who had been harvested for their meat in butcher’s shops, restauraunts and abbotoirs around the world by the same method. In that moment, she felt a kinship with them all. </p><p>Laura was speaking again, Helen could hear, reading out her list of supposed crimes against the state. When she finished, Martin, one of the guards, picked up a drum and started to play a dramatic rhythm while Sally, the other, unwound the rope from its peg and held it in her hands. The drumming stopped and there was a whooshing sound as Sally released the rope. The audience watched in awed silence as the blade fell then let out a roar of celebration as the dull thud announced it had come to rest.</p><p>At first, Helen was confused. Had something gone wrong? The blade had fallen, certainly, but all she had felt was a slight pinch and now nothing seemed to be happening! Was the guillotine a trick one like magicians used to use? It would be very silly if it was, considering the whole point of this performance was to show live executions! Had it got stuck, perhaps? Would they need to try again? What would happen if…</p><p>But then Helen’s head began to tip forward, then to fall, tumbling down into the waiting basket and she knew! The blad was so sharp she had barely felt it pass through her neck and now she had her wish! She gave a little yelp as her head hit the bottom of the basket but now sound came out. How could it? She had left her vocal chords up on the bench with the rest of her body… her carcass! Nothing more than meat now! Soon it would be gutted and cleaned and some while later, all the people who had just witnessed her execution would feast on her delicious meat!</p><p>Already she was feeling… not dizzy exactly, but confused. A little sleep. The bright, Summer afternoon seemed to be getting dark already. He vision was closing in, like the iris on an old-fashioned video camera being slowly drawn in to signal the end of a scene. There was clapping and cheering, Helen could hear that, but it seemed to be a long way away. There was little to see now other than a single bright spot, like a star shining in the darkness. With her severed head staring up at the sky from the bottom of the wicker basket, Helen closed her eyes and went to sleep. </p><p>“Hey!” Annie’s attention was pulled away from watching Steven’s execution prepared. From what she could tell, he was going to be slowly crushed to death between two spiked boards, rocks piled one by one on top, each one pushing the nails into him and crushing the breath from his lungs. She turned her head to see who was calling. It was Jane, walking towards her smiling, still wearing the skirt of her Roman soldier’s uniform but having taken the heavy armour off, revealing the sweaty t-shirt she wore beneath, a satchel for her phone, keys and purse slung over her shoulder. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was tied back in a short ponytail and she was grinning at her crucified friend. </p><p>“Hey!” she smiled again as she got closer, quieter this time now that she knew she had Annie’s attention. “The next one looked kinda grusome and I’m a bit squeamish really so I thought I’d come see if you wanted some company. I felt a bit bad when everyone wandered off and just left you hanging here.”</p><p>“Thanks...” Annie managed to smile, forcing herself up and gasping out one or two words per breatg. “That’s really… sweet… of you.” She smiled again. “You… got… a drink?” Now that she was trying to talk, Annie realised how dry her mouth had got with all the gasping for air. </p><p>“Sure!” Jane fished in her bag and pulled out a bottle of water. She unscrewed the blue plastic lid and carefully poured a few drops into her friend’s mouth. “Better?” she smiled and Annie nodded. “Great! So anyway,” she dropped the bottle back into her satchel, “I was coming over for a chat but then I noticed the way you were rubbing your thighs together and wondered if there was something else I could maybe help you with?” </p><p>“Oh… GOD… yes!” Annie gasped. “Please!” Watch first Toby then Helen executed had made the tingling between her legs almost unbearable. </p><p>“You don’t mind if I get more comfortable, do you?” Jane set her satchel down on the grass then pulled off her t-shirt, revealing her slim torso and pink nipples that were only just starting to bud. “Everyone’s watching that chubby boy get squished! Nobody’s going to be bothering us.” She stepped closer to Annie and kissed her passionately on the lips, putting one arm under her friend’s butt to help her stay up and breath more easily while they made out. </p><p>Then Annie felt Jane’s other hand push between her thick thighsand her fingers begin to explore her hot, wet slit. Annie gasped, her lips still locked to Jane’s as the young blonde slipped two slender fingers inside her tight, virgin cunt and used her thumb to massage her hard little button. Jane clearly knew what she was doing but after all, Annie reasoned, who knew how to pleasure a girl better than another girl?</p><p>The relief was almost overwhelmening as Jane stimulated her, her tight body crushed so hard against Annie’s that she could feel her hard nipples pressing into her own chest. Suddenly, however, Jane stopped and slipped her fingers out.</p><p>“What’s… wrong?” Annie asked as Jane moved her arm, allowing her to sink down on the nails once more. </p><p>“Nothing!” Jane smiled, a sly twinkle in her eyes, “I just wanted a change of scenery!” Several rocks were now piled on top of the board under which Steven was trapped, blood already oozing from the many nail-wounds peppering his fleshy body as his face, sticking out from the end of the deadly sandwich, expressed the anguished torment of a low, torturous death but neither Annie not Jane cared as the skinny blonde knelt and buried her face between her crucified friend’s legs, her long and dexterous tongue probing and exploring, enjoying her sneak preview of the afternoon’s menu. </p><p>As the pleasure and pain mixed in her body, setting her every nerve on fire, Annie lifted herself up and parted her leg as best she could with her feet pinned one on top of the other to allow Jane even closer and allow her tongue to scratch that most terrible of itches. The crucified girl tried not to scream but any sounds she made were drowned out by Steven’s cries as his ribs began to crack beneath the terrible weight and the nails drove ever deeper into him, piercing his lungs and other organs. Annie’s body spasmed and writhed, her back arched, and Jane’s tongue drove her to the much-needed climax. </p><p>“Feel better?” Jane stood and wiped Annie’s sweet honey from her mouth with the back of her hand. Out of breath and still shaking with the after-shocks of the most powerful orgasm of her life, Annie simply nodded. “Good!” the young blonde smiled, pulling her t-shirt back on. “I do too actually! Hey look!” she turned and pointed to the next display area where Claire was about to be put to death. “They’re doing Claire next, we should totally watch this one!”</p><p>“Isn’t hers… a bit… grusome… too?” Annie managed to ask, knowing exactly what was in store for the tall, slim blonde. </p><p>“Well yeah,” Jane admitted, “but it sounds so hot! “Let’s see her get snuffed,” she giggled, “then, if you need it, I’ve got way more where that came from!”</p><p>The two girls watched in fascination as the crowd moved on, leaving Steven’s crushed and bloody body, now barely recognisable as human, to be cleaned up later. Annie wondered what would happen to the boys’ bodies? Boy-meat was disgusting, she knew that, and nobody would want to eat it but it was used in pet food sometimes, or the bodies could be processed as fertiliser? Perhaps the caretaker would just throw them on the bonfire to be burned up along with Toby’s, what little remained on them once the executioners had done their work anyway,</p><p>“Here!” Jane slipped her arm under Annie’s round bottom once again as she lifted herself up, “Let me help you.”</p><p>“Thanks!” Annie managed to smile, almost uttering a little laugh. “But I’ll never… die… at this rate!”</p><p>“Hmm maybe not,” Jane teased, “but you’ll have a good view while the others do!” Claire’s executioners were dressed as members of the Spanish Inquisition and Penelope from her class was reading the description of how she was about to be executed. Annie tried to listen but was suddenly aware of Jane’s fingers inside her again. </p><p>“Wow!” she grinned. “What… got you… in such… a good… mood?” </p><p>“I’ll tell you in a minute!” Jane giggled. “Shh! They’re starting!” </p><p>In front of Claire and her guards was something that resembled a very narrow vaulting-horse but instead of the flat surface on the top, it was steepled like a pyramid and tipped with gleaming steel. Either side of the high wooden bench-type structure were little sets of wooden steps. As Annie tried to focus through the discomfort of her crucifixion and the almost overwhelming stimulation of Jane’s extremely skilled fingers between her legs, Claire’s hands were tied behind her back and the tall, slim, beautiful blonde eleven year old was led up the steps.</p><p>At the top, she stood, breathing heavily with her legs either side of the tapered tip of the metal-covered cross-beam and her clearly wet young pussy, shaved clean for the event as required, hovering just an inch from the sharp edge. As Jane continued to pleasure her crucified friend, the two red-robed executioners fixed iron shackles with heavy weights on them to Claire’s delicate ankles. </p><p>Instead of having a wad of rag shoved into her mouth, a thick rope was tied around Claie’s head, between her teeth so that she could bite on it to help with the pain. It might also serve as a ball-gag of sorts but it was unlikely that it woud do much to muffle any screams. </p><p>At an order from the girl reading the card, clearly in the role of Chief Inquisitor, Claire lowered herself, wincing as she sharp metal dug into her most intimate and sensitive area. The two executioners then knelt and lifted her feet off the steps, hugging her calves to support her weight as the support beneath her was removed. When the steps were out of the way, they gently released her so as not to cause a sharp tug. Claire sobbed and bit down hard on the rope as blood began to trickle down the sides of the wooden cross-beam. </p><p>Jane’s dexterous fingers worked faster and pushed deeper as the weights on Claire’s ankles pulled her lower and lower. The sharp metal point dug into the slim girl’s most intimate parts, slowly slicing its way up her body. Claire was audibly screaming now, her cries of pain echoing around the field as the weights made their slow but steady progress towards the grass still several inches below.</p><p>The audience watched in fascinated and horrified silence as Claire’s legs spread and the sharp metal edge made its way further and further up through her body, like a buzz-saw in a black and white melodrama but painfully, horifically slowly. Claire’s head was tipped back down and, despite the painkillers, she was openly weeping, too choked now even to scream as the weight on her legs continued to tug her down, cracking her coxics and pulling her mercilessly to her doom.</p><p>The soles of her feet finally touched the grass and Claire, split to three inches above her naval, collapsed forward, dead from the shock and blood-loss, her pretty face sliced open across her left eye as her head hit the cross-beam with a thump. The thump broke the silence and the crowd erupted into wild cheers. Of all the deaths they had witnessed so far that afternoon, this was by far the most erotic. </p><p>“Wow!” Jane gasped before kissing Annie passionately, her fingers still buried deep in the crucified girl’s hungry young pussy. “That was so hot!” </p><p>“Uh-huh!” Annie agreed. “So… you gonna tell me… what got you… so hot… and bothered?”</p><p>“Oh yeah!” Jane giggled, pulling out her fingers and licking them slowly, one at a time while keeping fixed eye-contact with her friend. “Mrs Foster from the kitchen was running around all worried about how many people had shown up and how there wouldn’t be enough food for everyone so a bunch of us volunteered!” </p><p>Despite the fuzziness of pain and arousal in her brain, Annie tried to do a quick calculation. There were a little less than five hundred pupils in the school and if each of them had brought two parents then there were around fifteen hundred people to feed, not including the staff. How far would four girls really go between that many? </p><p>“So… you’re getting… cooked?” Annie exclaimed. “Wow!”</p><p>“Yup!” Jane grinned. “Me, Mandy, Becky and Alison! Mandy and me are going in the pot!”</p><p>“Boiled... alive?” Annie managed to grin. There could be no doubt that she was feeling weaker now.  “That’s… cool!” </p><p>“I know, right?” Jane’s eyes sparkled. “Ooh speaking of being boiled alive, looks like Joe’s up!” </p><p>Annie tried her best to focus. It was getting difficult but she was determined to watch the death of her friend who could, in some ways, be considered her first and only lover. Her only lover of the opposite sex at least! Flanked by two tall boys, shirtless with black hood-like masks covering their faces, Joe stood naked and bound before a large cauldron of thick, boiling black tar-like oil which steamed and bubbled hungrily.</p><p>The displays were drawing ever closer back to Annie on her tree now, zig-zagging from one side of the field to the other. She only had to turn her head a little to watch Joe, Michelle would be killed practically beside her and Bobby’s execution, which promised to be the most dramatic of them all, would take place directly opposite. </p><p>Clearly Annie’s assistance in the teacher’s office had only allowed Joe some temporary relief as now that he stood staring with morbid fascination at the vat of boiling out, his ten year old willy stood at full attention once more. At least, Annie thought to herself, it was more impressive than Toby’s and she hoped everyone in the audience had learned the lesson of the boys who were sent away and knew better than to tease him. </p><p>As the two girls watched, fascinated, a long, flat wooden board, only six inches or so wide but as tall as Joe himself was stood behind him and, a little like Toby had been atop the bonfire, Annie’s friend was bound to it with thick ropes arould his chest and waist, pinning his arms to his side, then around his thighs, calves and ankles. It was clear now why the larger boys had been picked as exectutioners they lifted the board with Joe attached and rested the end on the edge of the iron cauldron so that his toes were inches from the surface. Annie could not imagine how hot it must be since already the pale skin of his feet was beginning to redden and blister. </p><p>Reading the details of this method of exectuion, dressed in a kind of medieval judge’s robe, was Alison, one of the girls Jane had mentioned who had volunteered her meat for after the show. Annie waited for her friend to be given some kind of gag or at least something to bite down on as Claire had been given but he was not and, at a command from the Alison, the executioners began to lower him, inch by inch, into the boiling oil. </p><p>Seeing his mouth open wide in anguish, Annie wondered why her friend was not screaming. His toes were in the oil now and small blue and orange flames licked around his ankles as the wooden board to which he was tied ignighted. The red blistering from the heat which the oil gave off alone was creeping up his body and past his chest then suddenly Annie understood – Joe was not screaming because he could not. Being held almost upright over the boiling oil, the fumes had seared his throat, leaving him incapable of expressing the pain he must be feeling as he was steadily lowered. </p><p>His feet were completely gone now, quickly followed by his ankles and shins, utterly consumed by the oil so hot it was a wonder the iron cauldron itself had not melted. Annie couldn’t help woindering what, if he were to be pulled back up now, would be left of lower legs. Would they be withered and burned or would they be utterly obliterated? </p><p>When she had told him in the changing room that she imagined it would be quick, she had been supposing that he would be dropped in all in one go and be dead within seconds. Not this drawn-out torture she was currently withnessing. Yet somehow his willy, the first and only she had ever sucked, remained hard, even as his skin blistered and broke, his boiling blood forcing its way to the surface. She watched him close his eyes and let out a terrible silent scream as his genitals disappeared beneath the black, bubbling surface and were destroyed. </p><p>There was a collective gasp from the audience as his head slumped. Clearly his heart had given out, whether from the pain or the intense heat Annie couldn’t be sure. Now the rest of his body was lowered in faster. As his chin reached the surface of the oil, his hair ignighted, prompting another gasp then applause from the audience. The wood and his body must be being destroyed, Annie reasoned, since the board had been longer than the cauldron was deep. She was feeling weaker now, her ability to focus fading. She didn’t really notice the pain any more appart from if she stayed pushed up on her foot nail for too long, but the cramps in her arms and legs were becoming unbearable. How much longer could she possibly last? </p><p>“Oh shit!” Jane exclaimed, pulling her supporting arm out from under Annie, letting her slump down on her strained, cramped arms. “I need to go put my armour back on!” </p><p>“Your… armour?” </p><p>“Yeah!” The little blonde looked slightly embarassed, “For the end of the show when we, you know, finish you off?”</p><p>“Oh… right!” Annie managed to almost laugh. </p><p>“I’ll be back as quick as I can!” Jane promised. “Hope Michelle’s snuffing is hot!” She gave her friend a passionate kiss on the lips before running off back to the changing room to don her Roman armour once more.</p><p>It was hard for Annie to see now, her vision was starting to get hazy. Following a few deep breaths to gather her senses once more, she turned her head to watch Michelle, the pretty mixed-race girl with her thick black hair and warm brown skin, being prodded up a ladder to the top of a very high thin wooden pole, cut to a rather dull-looking point at the top. </p><p>With her hands tied behind her back, Michelle stepped off the ladder she had climbed and onto the two which were leaned on either side, one foot on each. At the order or the lead executioner who was dressed as Vlad Tepes, commonly known as Dracula, she bent her knees and took the first three inches or so of the spike into her tight, wet vagina. Like Joe she had nothing in her mouth and let out a loud cry as the ladders were pulled away and she immediately sank another four of five inches under her own weight, blood from her cruel internal piercing trickling down and staining the pale wood of the stake on which she was now impaled. </p><p>Looking down in alarm at her ruined pussy, Michelle kicked her legs and continued to slip lower and lower, the dullness of the tip ensuring that she did not fall too fast. Her descent down the now very bloody pole was slow but steady and within a few minutes, the spike was approaching her chest. </p><p>“Wow!” Jane exclaimed, panting as she ran back to Annie’s side. “That IS hot! Look like she’s getting the ultimate fuck, huh? Here,” she pulled the foil lid off another of Miss Jennings’ painkiller pots, “drink this!” She held it up to Annie’s lips. The crucifed girl gulped it down, grateful for the drink as much as anything else. “And another!” she opened and tipped it into her friend’s mouth. “Trust me, you’re gonna want them! I swiped them out of Miss Jenning’s bag for you while I was changing.”</p><p>“Thanks...” Annie smile weakly, pulling herself up once more, “but… why?”</p><p>“Just trust me!” Jane smiled apologetically. Michelle was slipping further now, her kicks more like spasms as the spike reached the back of her throat. With the crowd cheering her on, she tipped her head back to allow a clear path as her two executioners, dressed as medieval Romanian soliders, tugged on her legs, pulling her down sharply and causing the bloody tip to erupt out of her mouth. </p><p>The painkillers eased the cramps quite considerably but made Annie’s head swim even more. Michelle’s impaled body was still twitching as spasming on the stake and the bonfire still burning cheerfully at the far end of the field as the audience moved to the biggest setup of the afternoon directly opposite Annie to watch Bobby put to death. </p><p>Although she barely felt connected to her body any more, Annie turned her head to look over the heads of the crowd as the tall, handsome young boy, his impressive preteen willy no less hard than Joe’s had been, was brought forward by a boy and girl in leather jerkins while a boy dressed as a Stewart King read from the card about the punishment that Bobby was about to receive – the puishment for Treason! </p><p>“Much like the Roman practice of crucifixion,” the boy dressed as the King read from his card, “the practice of hanging, drawing and quartering was intended to be a public spectacle, reserved mostly for those who commited Treason, which means crimes against the King or against the country, and was intended to serve as much as a deterrent to potential criminals as a punishment for the offender.” Annie was barely concious now. The triple dose of the pain-killer, especially taking two shots of it in quick succession, was making her incredibly drowsy but at least she barely felt any pain now, just a dull ache around the nails and an occasional sharp twinge as she hoisted herself to breathe. Jane, on the other hand, was fully alert and wishing she could pleasure herself as she watched Bobby’s execution but the audience was too close now, she was “on stage”.</p><p>Never mind, she thought to herself, there was plenty of time for that in the pot later. There was an unwritten rule, it seemed, that whatever the circumstances, meat girls were allowed to do whatever they needed to make their cooking more pleasureable, whether that be humping the spit on which they were impales or fingering theselves or each other to climax. She even remembered a party where the two girls in the oven had gone down on each other while they roasted and were still in that position when their delicious roast carcasses were served! </p><p>“Probably the most famous person to be sentenced to this form of execution,” the narration continued, “was Guy Fawkes who was convicted of attempting to blow up the Houses of Parliament when the King was present in sixteen oh five. However, immediately before his execution the following year, Fawkes either fell or jumped from the scaffold, breaking his next and dying instantly.” Much like the Star Wars fact in the guillotine presentation, this information elicited a wave of interested murmuring.”</p><p>As the King continued with his rather dry exposition, Annie checked out the performance area. It was certainly the largest display of all, featuring a stage at the back of which was a high scaffold, complete with noose, and at the front of which was a long wooden table. At one end of the table was a burning brazier, an orange glow emmanating from inside, and at the other was a row of five stakes, very similar to the one on which Michelle had been impaled but far shorter, the tops easy to reach for anyone standing on the stage. </p><p>“First the condemned would be hanged by the neck.” the King explained as Bobby was led up the steps and made to stand on a barrel while the noose was placed around his neck and tightened. “Unlike the later-invented long drop, designed to snap the neck of the condemned and cause instant death, the short drop would cause a slow death by strangulation. During normal executions, family and friends of the condemned were allowed to pull on their legs as they hanged to hasten their death and shorten their suffering.”</p><p>The tingle between Annie’s legs became stronger as the barrel was kicked away and Bobby, his arms behind his back and his willy standing proud, thrashed and kicked, his handsome face turning blue as he struggled for air. </p><p>“Unlike execution by hanging, however,” the King contined, “the condemned would only be allowed to hang for a short time before being cut down.” Bobby’s face was purple now and he was gulping and swallowing futilely, no longer kicking. One of the executioners took a large knife and sawed through the rope until it snapped and he fell to the wooden floor of the scaffold, taking deep gupls of air as the rope slackened. Annie understood well enough that, however willing a participant one might be in such a reenactment, the body was still going to fight instinctively for survival. </p><p>There was no more narration for now, clearly Miss Perkins, the teacher of 6P, had decided that the steps of the execution would speak for themselves. Bobby was carried roughly by the two executioners carried Bobby’s semi-concious body over to the table and layed him down so that his feet were close to the brazier and the stakes were behind his head. The boy executioner stood at the head of the table and forced Bobby to sit up a little, holding his head to make him watch as the girl took a long, sharp knife in one hand and his impressive genitals in the other. The auidence gasped as she hacked his penis and balls off before showing them to him, then there was a collective groan of ironic disappointment as they were thrown into the brazier to be burned up. </p><p>Next she cut open the length of his belly then set the knife down and reached in with both hands, pulling out his viscera. When most of what belonged inside Bobby was on the outside, she used the knife again to cut it loose and it too was dumped into fire. </p><p>From his place in the audience, Mr Jenkins couldn’t help but think back nostalgically to the very first such presentation where he had sacrificed lovely young Sarah to the Aztec sun god as the girl in the leather jerkin used a hand axe to open up Bobby’s chest and rip out his heart which was burned along with the rest of his innards. With the condemned boy now clearly dead, she handed the axe to her collage and he used it to strike off Bobby’s head then rammed the head with its tormented face onto one of the spikes.</p><p>“Once the prisoner was dead,” the King resumed his narration, “his body would be divited into four parts, hence the term Quartering, and those parts would be sent to different towns or parts of the city to be displayed as a warning to any who might have teasonous intent!” This action was carried out before the eyes of the watching crowd and the four pieces of Bobby’s body were forced onto the remaining spikes. </p><p>“Woah! That was kinda… grim!” Andy chuckled, joining Jane beside the now nearly unconcious body of Annie who was still lifing herself up to take laboured breaths but seeming to do so automatically rather than from any concious choice.</p><p>“I think that was the idea!” Jane laughed. “Did you bring it?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Andy nodded. “But she looks pretty out of it. Are you sure we need to...”</p><p>“They came for a show, right? And to watch her die by crucifixion?”</p><p>“Well yeah.” The boy admitted. “How about you do it?” </p><p>“I guess I can.” Annie took a deep breath. It had been their teacher, Mrs Green, who had suggested this particular form of coup-de-gras when she had found Jane taking a little break, insisting it was more historically accurate than the spear which had no evidence of historical usage beyond the Biblical account. As the audience gathered to watch the final act of the presentation, Annie took the heavy sledgehammer with its wooden handle and iron head from Andy and hefted it in her hands, getting used to the weight. </p><p>“I’m sorry, honey.” she leaned in and whispered to Annie. “I hope it won’t hurt too much after all at at least you’ll go quickly now.” Annie tried to open her eyes and murmured in confusion like a child woken from a dream. </p><p>“What do...” </p><p>CRACK! </p><p>The hammer completed its wide arc and the blunt iron head connected with Annie’s left shin, shattering the bone and crushing the leg against the tree. The crucified girl opened her eyes wide and screamed, the sharp pain cutting through the numbness and mental fog in a horrific moment on total clairity. With a deep breath, Jane took a step back and adjusted her position then took a second wide swing, destroying her friend’s right shin. Annie cried out once more than blacked out for a second or two from the overwhelming pain.</p><p>When she awoke a moment later, Annie tried to hoist herself for another breath but, with her obliterated lets, it was impossible. In desparation she tried to lift herself against the nails in her wrists but her arms were too weak. Already she was having severe trouble breathing. The pain in her legs dulled but the burning in her chest intensified. She saw Jane stood leaning on the upright hammer and watching her wide an unmistakable look of pity and apology in her eyes. Although it took all the strength she had left, Annie managed a weak but genuine smile to tell her friend that she forgave her. </p><p>There was no hope for Annie now, no chance to take a fresh breath. She tried to breathe in her slumped position but managed only faint gulping noises at the back of her throat. Her vision was dark now as her brain, starved of oxygen, began to shut down. </p><p>Jane watching intently as her crucified friend’s head slumped forward. With no sign of movement in her chest, she reached out and touched Annie’s neck. There was no pulse. With a theatrical flourish, she turned and announced to the audience that the prisoner was dead, prompting a fresh wave of cheers and applause, not just for Annie this time but for all who had participated in the afternoon’s performance. </p><p>All the executioners now came forward to take a bow and the Head gave a short speech thanking everyone who had come to watch, all the children who had taken part and the teachers and other staff who had helped to fascilitate. The speech continued for a few minutes more bit Jane was too excited to pay attention. Her mind was on what was to happen next! </p><p>Since there was so much meat to be cooked and so many people to serve, even before it had been realised that the four extra volunteers would be needed, the decision had been made to do the cooking outside, on the playground. Now that the school day was officially over, the pupils went and joined their parents and most families wandered the field for a better look at the execution equipment. The bonfire on which Toby had died was still burning merrily but there was no sign of his body any more. What was left of Steven oozed out stickily onto the grass. </p><p>Over on the playground, the school cooks were rushing around to accommodate the changed plans, assisted by Mrs Karen Archer,  local butcher and school governor, former member of Mr Jenkins’ class and best friend to Sarah Henderson, the school’s first sacrifice. Ever since taking over the business from her father, Mr Meadows, she had come into her old school to process the carcass of that year’s volunteer and, although now not too far from retirement herself, there was no way she had been going to miss this extra special jubilee year! </p><p>The plan had been to roast Helen whole, cut the limbs off Annie and Michelle to cook in steaks on the grill and the roast their torsos either side of Helen while Michelle’s body would be chopped up to go in the stew pot, but now with four extra meat-girls to cook, the plans had changed. Claire would still go in the pot but now her chunks would be joined by two live girls, Jane and Mandy while Alison and Becky occupied the now-vacant spits either side of Helen.</p><p>This was all a far cry, Karen thought to herself, from that first time when her friend’s meat had been served as burgers and tacos and the one ten year old girl had yielded enough meat for the whole school. But then, of course, there had been only around a hundred and twenty pupils in the school so even with all the staff, there were less than a hundred and fifty people to feed in total. Today they were going to feel ten times that number with only eight times the amount of meat but it should be fine – Karen thought back to fifty years ago and how many of the hungry pupils had gone back for seconds of Sarah, not mentioning the amount of meat her dad told her he’d put aside, including he own family’s dinner that night. Eight whole girls should provide more than enough food for the attendees, even if there were so many of them. </p><p>As soon as the audience had moved on to watch the next display, Helen’s headless carcass had been delivered to the cooking area where Karen hung it from suspended chains, the steel hooks through the back of the delicious-looking girl’s ankles and proceeded to gut and clean it. For neatness sake, she also cut off the hands and feet, dropping these into the pot which was already starting to warm although it would never reach the temperature of the oil that Joe had been boiled in! Since live girls would be added to the stew, it was decided to keep the temperature relatively low to begin with and increase it only once the girls were in, giving them the chance to put on a bit of a show as they died, should they feel so inclined. </p><p>Knowing that the live girls would take some time to cook, the school cooks had put Helen’s cleaned and spitted carcass over the coals more or less as soon as it was ready, meaning that the audience would be able to watch the live-spitting of the two volunteers but then have something to eat almost immediately.  The cuts of Michelle and Annie meat on the long grill would also not take too long to cook and would be ready to enjoy soon. </p><p>While the guests were enjoying their time on the field, able to take a closer look at some of the equipment than they had got during the performance and with more that a little teasing about who might like to try them next, the caretaker climbed a ladder to the top of Michelle’s stake and slowly pulled her up off it, her body making slurping, sucking sounds as he pulled it by the hair until he was able to get his hands under her arms and lift from there. Once the impaled girl was pulled free, he slung the carcass over his shoulder and climbed down the ladder as if he were a fireman rescuing her from a burning building. </p><p>At the bottom of the ladder, he dumped the limp, bloody-legged body into a waiting wheelbarrow and pushed it along to the tree where Annie still hung, her pulverised legs almost pulled apart by the eight of her slumping body above. Whistling as he worked, as casually as if he were unblocking drains or mopping the toilet floor, he used a sturdy pair of pliers to yank the nail from her feet then positioned himself to catch the sweet-faced corpse as he unpegged first her left arm, then her right. Soon Annie’s body was dumped on top of Michelle’s and the caretaker pushed them, still whistling cheerfully, towards the playground cooking area. </p><p>Like Helen, Claire’s half-split body was delivered to the cooking area almost as soon as she was dead. Karen had felt very grateful for this as it meant she could get that butchering out the way before the two girls for the grill arrived and she was just dropping the last piece of arm into the stew when the caretaker arrived with his well-laden wheelbarrow. </p><p>“Are you okay to wait around for a few minutes?” Karen asked politely, pointing to Claire’s pretty head on the table beside her, “Then you can take all the heads away together?” She knew that they would all be washed and the hair shampooed and styled before the bronzing at the trophy shop so it really didn’t matter if they got a bit of extra blood on them in the wheelbarrow. </p><p>“Sure!” the friendly caretaker smiled. “Not really a lot else I can do over there until until everyone’s gone home anyway.” He jerked his thumb towards the field. Karen smiled gratefully and set about gutting and parting the two fresh carcasses. </p><p>“Hi!” Jane smiled politely at Mrs Brown, the friendly, grey-haired head cook who was very popular with the children and other staff alike. “We’re here to be cooked!” she waved her hand towards her little posse of costumed friends as the lady paused her basting of Helen’s partially-cooked body and turned to look at the newcomers. “What should we do?” Jane asked with a genuinely helpful tone. “Shall we just get naked here or…?”</p><p>“Hmm...” Mrs Brown cast her eye over the four girls, dressed as a Roman, an Inquisitor, a French revolutionary and a Stewart-era executioner respectively. Several of them were splashed with blood and all four exciting, smiling faces showed signs of having been very sweaty very recently! “No,” she spoke carefully, not wanting to cause any offence, “you should probably all go and take a quick shower in the swimming pool building, just a rinse-off if there’s no soap there but freshen up a little at least!” The girls, all giggling, did as they were told and Mrs Brown went to see if her assistant, Miss Miller, needed any help with seasoning the steaks and chops for the grill. </p><p>“This is SO cool!” Becky enthused, pulling off her leather jerkin and struggling to untie the chord holding up her trousers. </p><p>“I know, right?” Mandy grinned, holding her inquisitor robe in her hands and looking around. “What are we supposed to do with our costumes?”</p><p>“Just leave them on the benches I guess?” Jane suggested, her eye falling on the labelled bag containing her school uniform that she would never put on again. “Pretty sure since we volunteered our meat we’re allowed to let stuff like that be someone else’s problem?” </p><p>“Good point!” Mandy agreed, bundling up the robe and laying it on the bench. By now, Becky and Alison had also managed to shed their costumes and stood naked and grinning. Jane looked them up and down. Both were absolutely delicious-looking, just like Helen, with round rumps, thick thighs, just the hint breasts starting to bud on their chests and plump, meaty vulvae, both of which were fortunately shaved clean. </p><p>“So did you have an idea this was going to happen?” Jane asked, looking pointedly between her fellow blonde Alison’s legs. “Since you prepared n’all?” </p><p>“Nah I just prefer it that way.” Alison smiled. “But came in handy, huh?”</p><p>“What about you?” red-haired Becky chuckled, flipping the question back on Jane. “Looking fairly smooth yourself! I might almost be tempted to think you set this up?”</p><p>“No,” Jane chuckled, “but a girl needs to be ready for anything, doesn’t she?” Shuffling her feet, dark-haired Mandy hoped that nobody would question her own lack of hair since the simple answer was that it had not grown yet and now never would. She hadn’t really minded, or even given it a lot of thought, but hearing the other three debate relative merits of shaving verses creams to remove what could only have been a little peach-fuzz at most made her feel suddenly very immature and embarrassed.</p><p>“Shouldn’t we be going in the shower?” she piped up, hoping to move the conversation on. Giggling, the other three agreed and they ran to the open row of showers meant for rinsing the pool-water off once your lesson was finished. All of them desperately wanted to take some time to play they wanted more urgently to be cooked. There were no towels available since pupils were supposed to bring their own with their swimming costumes so the four girls ran giggling, naked and dripping out of the changing room and over to the cooking area.</p><p>“Don’t worry!” Jane whispered to Mandy as they stood exposed and aroused in the warm afternoon air, “We can have some fun in the pot! And those two are heading for the ultimate fuck!”  </p><p>“Much better!” Mrs Brown smiled. “All four of you look good enough to eat!” The naked, dripping girls giggled obligingly. “Now Jane, I think Annie’s mum and dad wanted a quick word with you before you get in the stew. Mandy, dear, you can climb straight in!” </p><p>The sweet, slim brunette looked over at the stew pot. She was a little disappointed that it was not the traditional, story-book style that Joe had been boiled in but rather an oversized stainless steel saucepan, heated from below by a three concentric gas rings. Still, she knew it was proper girl-cooking equipment from the kitchens and, after all, how it looked wasn’t really that important – it was what was inside that counted and that, in this case, would be her! </p><p>A small set of steps, like people use to reach high shelves, was beside the steaming pan. Feeling like there was no point in waiting, Mandy climbed them then tentatively felt the metal rim of the pan with the back of her hand. It was warm to the touch but not scalding hot, more like the handrails on the concrete steps near her house when the sun had been on them all afternoon. Having determined it was safe to touch, Mandy gripped the rim and swung one leg over, then the other, her feet dabbling in the hot but not boiling broth in which the pieces of Claire bobbed around. She sat on the edge of the pan for a couple of moments, kicking her feet happily, before lowering herself in and getting comfy while she waited for her pot-mate. </p><p>Standing close to the grill where her own daughter’s meat would soon be cooking, Annie’s mum stood, her husband just behind. Jane approached her a little shyly and stood, still dripping, with her hands behind her back. </p><p>“Mrs Brown said you wanted to see me?” She looked up with a pretty smile. </p><p>“Yes, dear.” Annie’s mum knelt down. “We just wanted to say...” she leant in conspiratorially. “We saw what you did for Annie, while the show was going on, and we wanted to thank you.” Jane blushed a little but smiled proudly. “Now, I know you’re not supposed to eat just before cooking but, well, Mrs Archer said this would be okay. And I think she should know!” She grinned then turned to Karen who had appeared silently beside them. “Is it ready?”</p><p>“Yes!” Karen fished amongst the glowing coals with a set of metal tongs and drew out a blackened silver lump. It reminded Jane of the baked potatoes they had cooked in the fire on Brownie camp last Summer. “Should be done now!” She took a paper plate and dropped the foil bundle onto it then passed the plate to Annie’s mum.</p><p>“We wanted you to have this.” she smiled at the wet and slightly puzzled young meat-girl. She held the plate out and Jane took it. “Careful!” she warned in a motherly tone, “It will be hot!” Carefully, Jane peeled back the foil to see what was inside. It was the delicious smell that his her first, then, as the steam cleared, she saw what she had been given. </p><p>It was Annie’s plump, meaty vulva! There could be no mistake about that – Jane had got so familiar with her friend’s pussy over the last hour or so she was sure she would know it anywhere and now here it was, cooked and looking even more delicious! </p><p>“You enjoyed it so much raw,” Annie’s dad chuckled, enjoying the look of happy surprise on the little girl’s face, “it seemed only right that you should be the one to enjoy it cooked!”</p><p>“Eat it quickly ‘though, dear!” Karen warned, “You’re needed in the stew! I’m sure you and your friend want to have a little fun while you cook and it will be no good if she’s done before you even get in, will it?” Jane giggled in agreement then hungrily bit into the baked vulva while its owner’s parents looked on indulgently. The taste was familiar but with an added rich smokiness now. Savouring the rare delicacy, Jane quickly took another bite. Three minutes and two bites later it was gone and she stood grinning and licking her fingers.</p><p>“Wow that was really tasty!” she enthused, grinning up at Annie’s parents. “Even better than when it was attached!” she added with a giggle. “That was so kind of you and I really hope you enjoy the food tonight! Well, I guess this is goodbye! The stew-pot’s calling me!” The couple bade her farewell and couldn’t help smiling happily as she practically skipped off to join Mandy in the pot. </p><p>“Wow this feels kinda nice!” Jane grinned at Mandy. “Like a hot-tub!” </p><p>“Yeah,” Mandy replied with a cheeky smile,  “if hot-tubs had bits of girl floating around in them!” </p><p>“Good point!” laughed Jane, picking up a piece of arm that bumped into her chest and examining it for a moment before dropping it back into the broth. “So if you weren’t in here with me and were going to test out one of the displays out there, which one would it be?” </p><p>“Hmm...” Mandy reflected, lowering her shoulders under the water as if she was enjoying a relaxing bath after a long day. “The guillotine looked pretty cool although it was over so quickly… I guess probably being burned at the stake!” she grinned, her brown eyes sparkling. “How about you?” </p><p>“Ooh that’s hot!” Jane giggled, “In more ways than one!” She stuck her tongue out playfully. “I guess for me it would have to be the impaling! The way she wriggled and squirmed as she sank down the pole was just…. Mmmm!” The slim, tomboyish but pretty blonde bit her lower lip. The audience were starting to wander over now, attracted by the smell of the cooking meat on the grills and the promise of a live spitting. Helen’s luscious body was already turning over the coals but Becky and Alison were yet to be spitted, standing close to the cooking area and giggling as their delicious preteen bodies were rubbed from neck to toe with butter by the school cooks.</p><p>“Sexy, huh?” Jane and Mandy looked up in surprise to see who had spoken. It was Karen, standing behind the pot and grinning at them, clearly referring to the two piggies destined for the spit. “I’ve always thought a nice coating of butter was one of the best outfits a girl can wear!” </p><p>“You’re the butcher, aren’t you?” Mandy asked politely. “I think Mummy comes in your shop sometimes.” </p><p>“I was.” Karen smiled, “Retired now but I do like to keep my hand in. My daughter and her husband do a great job of running the shop now.” The girls smiled up at her happily. She was a nice lady with kind eyes even if she had spent her whole career chopping up girls like themselves for their meat. “You two look delicious by the way!” she grinned down at them with a grandmotherly twinkle in her eye, then knelt down, her arms folded on the warm edge of the pot and spoke to them  conspiratorially. </p><p>“You know what makes girl stew taste even better, huh?” The girls leaned in, eager to hear, holding onto the rim and floating with their cute round bottoms cresting the water. “If you add some of your own special honey!” she grinned. </p><p>“Honey?” Mandy frowned. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“Don’t worry!” Jane smiled slyly, pulling her naive friend towards her. “I know what we need to do!” She kissed the little brunette, pushing her tongue between her friend’s lips and caressing hers inside the warm mouth. “Put your fingers here!” she instructed, taking Mandy’s hand and putting it between her own legs. “And copy what I do.” Licking her lips, the blonde pushed her own fingers between Mandy’s pale thighs and began to stroke and caress. As her friend moaned a little, copying her movements, she pushed two fingers inside and, with her thumb on Mandy’s hard little button, began to caress her inside as well. They two girls kissed once more as Karen watched them, smiling indulgently. Quite an audience began to gather as the water, and the scene unfolding within it, grew ever hotter. </p><p>“Right piggies!” Mrs Brown grinned at the other girls. “Time for spitting!” Although the crowd around the stew pot was large, the audience gathered to watched the two buttered little girls impaled and put over the coals to roast was easily three times its size. </p><p>Alison was the first to mouth the spitting frame, breathing heavily as her ankles and wrists were strapped into place. Once her buttered young body was securely in position, the caretaker helped Mrs Brown unclip the top half of the frame and lower it down so that the sweet little blonde bent at the waist, her rump pushed out and both tight holes exposed.</p><p>While the caretaker supported the weight of the spit, Mrs Brown guided it through Alison’s plump labia into her vagina and guided it while the caretaker pushed. The meat-girl let out a little yelp as the fiendishly sharp tip pierced her cervix and continued its journey into her body. She squirmed and writhed as the feeling of burning spread toward her chest but managed not to scream or cry out, gritting her teeth against the pain until Karen came and knelt in front of her, speaking softly, comfortingly, and encouraging her to open her mouth to make way for the spit. Obediently, Alison opened her mouth and the gleaming metal pole erupted from the back of her throat, scraping against her teeth as it continued to extend until it was far enough through. </p><p>Now Mrs Brown and the caretaker raised the back of the frame so that the impaled girl lay flat. Her eyes bulged a little as the cook slid the stabiliser on its ring up the pole and forced the cold metal rod into Alison’s tight little ass hole so that she would not slip around as she turned over the coals. Now her wrists and ankles were cuffed close to the pole and her hair was wrapped in foil so it wouldn’t burn as she roasted. </p><p>In less than ten minutes, Becky was spitted as well and both girls were turning slowly, the melted butter mixing with their own sweat as it dripped from their roasting bodies and sizzled on the coals below. Only a little over twenty minutes later, Helen’s meat was ready to serve while the two live girls desperately humped their spits, craving that one final climax before they succumbed to the heat. </p><p>“I’m starting to feel sleepy.” Mandy admitted to Jane as they broke their kiss for air. “The stew is so hot, I don’t know how much longer I can hold on!”</p><p>“Don’t worry!” Jane whispered softly, “I’ll be gone soon too. But I want to taste you first!” </p><p>“Taste me?” Mandy was puzzled. </p><p>“Yes. Your meat!” Jane’s eyes sparkled. “I want some!” To the surprise and delight of the watching audience, the young blonde leaned over her friend’s shoulder and bit down, tearing away a small piece of flesh. Mandy felt the tugging but very little pain as the boiling broth had destroyed all but her most sensitive nerve-endings. “Mmm!” Jane sighed happily as she swallowed, watching the trickle of blood swirl in the water behind Mandy. “You taste so good! Want some of me?” she pushed her chest forward, offering her dark pink nipples. Mandy put her lips to her left one and suckled for a few moments like a baby before biting down and tearing it away. “Good!” Jane whispered, “Enjoy that as you go to sleep!” Her hands on the top of Mandy’s head, she pushed down, forcing her friend under the water. </p><p>Although she made no complaint, Mandy’s body began to fight as her lungs burned for lack of oxygen and the searing broth burned her throat and nose. She began to thrash and try to force her way back up but Jane held her firm. When eventually the flailing below the surface stopped, the one-nippled girl released her pot-mate and the body bobbed to the surface. Contented now, Jane closed her eyes and slipped below the surface, giving herself to the stew. </p><p>“Did you ever think it would lead to this, fifty years ago?” Karen asked Mr Jenkins, her never-forgotten teacher an hour later as they stood chatting, each with a paper cup of stew in one hand and a burger bun filled with spit-roasted girl-meat in the other. </p><p>“I really didn’t!” the distinguished elderly man chuckled. “In fact I half expected it would be the end of my career but look at me now! Or you for that matter!” He grinned at his former pupil. “It’s been a real pleasure watching what a success you’ve made of your life!”</p><p>“Thank you!” Karen beamed proudly then looked around at the happy crowd, all chatting and cheerfully munching on the flesh of their children, their children’s friends and classmates. “There’s just one thing that worries me about all this!”</p><p>“Oh?” Mr Jenkins frowned and used the back of his hand in which he held the bun to push his glasses back up his nose. “And what’s that?”</p><p>“However are they going to top it next year?” </p><p>THE END</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>